The Glory Hole
by pin-up-girls
Summary: When Dean discovers his first glory hole, he gets a little TOO excited, and it lands him in humorous results. Unfortunately for the brothers, neither of them are laughing. Not wincest, not exactly. by Kate


Okay-

So not in a million years would I ever come up with the idea of writing a story about a Glory Hole. It's not exactly my style.  
This story is what comes from the never ending pestering that is MISHKA.

FIRST she decides you're going to write the story - you really have no say.

THEN she nags you with endless emails - "Where the hell is my HOLE?!!".

FINALLY you crack under the presser and write until your eyes bleed. Well… at least until they get really really bloodshot.

Thus at that moment what comes to be is…

* * *

**THE GLORY HOLE**

"What'd you mean you've never heard of a Glory Hole?"

"I've never heard of a fucking Glory Hole!"

"You. You've never heard of a--" Sam stared at his brother in disbelief. "I don't believe you."

"Why the hell would I lie?"

"Um… to torture me?"

"God you're paranoid!" Dean complained. "Look, just tell me what the damn hole's for!"

Sam gawked at his brother, and then glanced back down at the hole his older sibling had noticed in the truck stop bathroom wall. Heard of it or not, Sam felt the whole damn thing was pretty self-explanatory seeing the writing was literally on the wall. The small hole was placed at standard crotch level and was surrounded by drawings of penises with arrows directing toward the hole. Directly above in great big painted letters the words 'Glory Hole' adorned the wall. So far as Sam was concerned, it was excessively clear. Dean however, had decided to play mental block, and his lack of patience in getting an explanation out of his younger sibling made the situation all the more aggravating.

"Haven't you ever seen 'Porky's'?" He tried.

"I saw 'Animal House'," Dean replied proudly. Sam rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Okay Dean, here's how it works," Sam gave in. "You stick your dick in the hole, eventually a girl shows up on the other side and sucks you off. Can we go now?" Dean stared as a small, twisted smile slowly appeared on his face.

"You're kidding?"

"About leaving? No."

"About the hole," Dean said with a point in its direction.

"No, Dean. See the _PENISES_- see the _ARROWS-_ THAT's how it works."

"Awesome!" Dean unbuttoned his fly and pulled his cock out as he stepped up to the wall.

"Jesus DEAN!" Sam shouted, averting his eyes. "Give a guy some warning!"

"What?" Dean questioned casually. "It's not like you didn't just see it thirty seconds ago at the urinal." Dean widened his stance and began to line his dick up with the hole.

"I didn't see it thirty seconds ago, because I knew to LOOK AWAY!"

"Whatever." Dean stuck his cock into the hole full up to his balls. He stood there for about twenty seconds before getting bored. "Now what?"

"Now you pull your dick back out, because I don't think anybody's buy-"

"Wholy Shit!!!" Dean reacted to the sudden hand on his cock.

"Or," Sam sighed. "I could be wrong."

Sam stood and watched as his brother squirmed and repositioned himself in reaction to the erotic hand job. As the hand pumped him harder, he pressed himself further and further into the hole. His eyes rolled up into his head and shut as he palmed the wall in front of him.

"Damn Sammy… and I thought you were making this shit… Wha-a-haha… shuuuu…it… fuck … damn…. Baby- that's a mouth! Yeah! Kay…. Kay… Wooooo…t" Dean let out a long exhale as he began to hump the wall.

"Uh… I think I'll a…" Sam pointed toward the door, "…leave you two alone."

Sam hustled out the door and made camp in the passenger seat of the Impala. Pulling out a book, he kicked the door open, acquiring light and a cool breeze both at once. If he were lucky, Dean would be a fast shooter and they could get the hell back on the road in under five minutes. Sam read the first paragraph of chapter ten.

'_Ring' - - - 'Ring' - - - 'Ring' _

Sam pulled out his phone and sighed when he saw Dean's name on the screen; he pressed 'send'.

"I know what you're gonna say, and I don't need to try it!" Sam cut his brother off at the pass. But Dean's voice didn't deliver the comment he was expecting; instead it came breathy, urgent, and panicked.

"Sammy… I'm in a bit of trouble here…"

"What?" Sam responded, thrown by the fear in his brother's voice.

"I don't think…" Dean choked the words out, "…don't think I'm gonna make it out of this one…" Sam's mind drew blank.

"Hang on Dean, I'll be right there!" Sam tossed his book, jumped from the car, and ran back to the men's room. He burst inside carrying complete fear of what state his brother might be in, never expecting what he actually found.

Dean stood in exactly the same spot, palms pressed against the wall, dick still shoved in the hole, and so far as Sam could tell… he was completely fine.

"Dean!" Sam yelled. "What the fuck?! You had me scared shitless! What the fuck's wrong with you?!"

"I- ah…" Dean struggled against the wall.

"Are you done? What the hell are you do-"

"Sam, would you shut up and listen to me! I'm stuck! I'm fucking stuck! Okay!!?"

Sam gaped at his brother.

"No way?" He smirked.

"It's not funny, dude!"

"I'm not laughing," Sam said. "I'm smiling a little, but I'm not-" Sam cracked up. "Okay, yeah- there- I'm laughing!"

"Sam!"

"What?"

"It hurts man! Do something!"

"What'd you want me to do?"

"Anything!" Sam slowly backed toward the exit.

"Okay, not _anything…_ something," Dean reiterated. Sam stopped backing away and just stared, dumbfounded. "Sam please," Dean begged.

"Okay, okay," Sam gave in. He walked over and attempted to get a closer look. He stared inquisitively at his brother's crotch. "How is that even possible?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, how are you stuck? You got in, after you came it should have-"

"I didn't," Dean semi explained.

"What?"

"What's so hard to understand here, Sammy? I didn't cum… okay? The bitch wanted me to shove money through the other hole and I didn't!"

"What other hole?"

"The money hole!" Dean pointed at a hole closer to eyelevel, which indeed was marked for shoving money though. Sam shrugged.

"Huh… never seen one of those before."

"Yeah, thanks Mr. Helpful," Dean bitched as he continued to struggle.

"Well, why didn't you just pay her?" Sam questioned.

"She wanted a hundred bucks!"

"So?"

"So? Are you crazy?"

"I'm not the one with my dick stuck in a wall."

"It was a hundred bucks, Sam! I can do it myself with ten cents worth of lube and three tissues!"

"Fine… fine… so…" Sam re-evaluated. "So basically you need to get off."

"Yeah," Dean whined, "I guess. So um… I was thinking…"

"What?" Sam said innocently, and then started to piece things together. "Oh no fucking way!"

"It's not like I WANT you to do it! It's just-"

"Not even for the HUNDRED DOLLARS Dean!!!!" Sam yelled, as he literally put his foot down.

"Well ya gotta do something, cause all this tugging to get out's only making me harder."

"Geeze!" Sam squirmed and walked away. He stood with his fingers pressed into his temple evaluating the situation he wanted nothing to do with; Sam sighed heavily. "Damn it Dean!" He turned and exited the bathroom.

"Hey! Where the hell-? Sam!!!!" Dean screamed as loud as he could, but nothing, Sam was gone. "Damn it, where the fuck does he thing he's go-"

"I'm right here Dean," Sam's exasperated voice came though the money hole.

"What?!" Dean reacted, startled. "Oh, shit… I thought you…"

"Yeah, I should have," Sam complained. "Let me a… let me take a look," he said uncomfortably.

Dean waited semi-patient as his kid brother assessed things. After several seconds, he felt something poke his dick. As it sproinged in response, he pressed his eye to the money hole just in time to partially see Sam poke it again.

"Are you poking my dick with your phone?" He asked incredulously.

"Better my phone than my finger!"

"Poking it's not gonna do anything Sam, trust me."

"Dean!" Sam griped.

"I'm not happy about this either, believe me, dude!"

"How do you know it's even gonna work?"

"Look, I'm either gonna cum, or you'll touch it and I'll go immediately soft. Either way, I get out," Dean reasoned.

Sam moved so his back was against the wall next to his brother's dick. He leaned his head back, shut his eyes, and cringed, TOTALLY hating this plan.

"Dean… I… I don't know…"

"You're thinking too much, Sam. Look, just pretend you're touching yourself."

"Yeah, because thinking of_ myself_ getting off while I stroke my brother makes it so much less creepy," Sam criticized.

"Sam! Before someone comes in! God damn do it!" Dean panicked from the other side of the concrete.

"Alright! Alright!"

Sam took in a deep breath, as if about to dive under water for an extended period. He looked across the room and focused on the sink, then, without moving anything but his arm, he patted across the wall until he found his brother. The moment he touched it he pulled his hand away.

"Dean, look," he stalled, "I'm… I'm gonna do this… and then we're _never_ gonna talk about it again. Okay?"

"You think I'm gonna wanna have a discussion afterward?!" Dean bellowed through the wall.

"Right…"

"It's not like I'll need to be held, Sam!" Dean bitched.

"Kay…"

"Will you?!"

"No!" Sam counted defensively.

"Good, then start! I don't have forever here!"

"Well, actually…"

"Sam!"

"Right, fine… okay…"

Sam took another breath, focused on that sink, and slid his fingers onto Dean's cock. It was hard, that was for sure, and although his hand knew instinctively what to do, his head was trying to tell it different. He forced his hand full over Dean's dick and simply grasped, then did nothing but stand there as his hand shook.

"Are you trying to vibrate against it? What the fuck is that?" Dean complained. Sam pulled away again.

"I'm nervous, okay!" There was a moment of silence and then…

"You're shaking cause you're nervous?" Dean asked seriously. Another moment of silence and then…

"I guess," Sam admitted with the same shakiness in his voice.

"Don't do it," Dean returned quickly.

"What?"

"You heard me… don't do it," Dean said with finality.

"But how are you-?"

"I don't know, okay," Dean snapped with an edge of resumed panic. "Maybe…" Dean tugged and struggled to pull out again. He grunted painfully when nothing changed, then sighed emotionally and let his head bang into the wall. Sam stood for an extended time, quietly listening to his brother's raspy breath. Finally, be broke the silence.

"Hold still," he said softly.

"What? What're you gonna do?" Dean questioned untrustingly.

"Just- hold still," Sam instructed.

Sam clinched his eyes shut as his hand again came around his brother's dick. He still didn't like this, but somehow the combination of being told he didn't have to, and the pathetic painful gasps emanating from his brother, pushed him into a different spot. Sam tightened his grip and began to stroke. He kept his eyes shut and tried to clear his mind, turn it into nothing but a repetitive motion. This seemed to work, and Sam continued the rhythm, head clear, until Dean began to react.

Small moans seeped through from the other side of the wall, aroused moans, and Sam was annoyingly tugged from the distant spot he had managed to disappear into. That was his brother moaning, moaning because he was getting him off. With each rhythmic stroke Sam heard Dean burst out in a short guttural groan. He kept his eyes shut tight and kept going. _One… two… three… four… five… six…_ Sam counted in an attempt to distract himself. Dean let out a slightly louder moan, and Sam had a sudden panic.

"Tell me when you're gonna cum," he blurted, wanting a sufficient hand removal warning. Dean responded only with moans.

"Dean-" Sam tried again, opening his eyes.

"I heard you," Dean shoved the words between moans, "now shut up, you're killing the mood." Sam feigned his eyes and keep going. He turned away from the wall and caught sight of himself in the mirror above the sink.

There he was: back pressed to the wall, legs bent, head thrown against the concrete, and arm out clutching and working the stray cock in the wall. Although he had closed his eyes almost immediately, the image remained vividly lodged in his head. _One… two… three… four… _Sam saw himself, eyes shut, heatedly stroking the cock. _Five… six… seven… eight… _ Dean appeared, pressed against the opposite wall, mouth moaning heavily. Sam flinched against the images; he needed this done. He pumped the erection harder, he rubbed his thumb up over the head, bit his lip, and tried to control his own heated breath. Dean's reaction began to heighten.

"Okay," Dean signaled through choppy breath. "Okay." Sam knew it was time, but instead of pulling away, he kept going. As he felt the warm fluid release between his fingers, he opened his eyes and watched the dreaded climax in the mirror.

There he was: back pressed to the wall, legs bent, head thrown against the concrete, and mouth agape gasping in silent reaction. His eyes were astray, unfocused, even as he watched himself, and his hand began to slow against the now limping cock. Sam pulled his right hand away, and brought his left up over his mouth. He covered tightly to keep from revealing even a single sound. Then, as the cock finally disappeared through the wall, Sam moved to the sink, and without dropping his eyes from the mirror, washed his hands. When he was done, he took a moment.

Grasping the edge of the sink, Sam stared at himself, he had never watched before… watched himself. Somehow Dean's erotic soundtrack, laid atop his own played out scene of exhausted, forced upon, lust, was well… in short… _hot_. He had become a voyeur of himself, and reluctantly discovered that he was incredibly sexy to observe. His stance, his movement, the way his mouth gaped open, and his eyes... they revealed everything: his resistance, his lust, his solitude… and mostly, his need.

Sam had gotten turned on not from listening to his brother, not from touching another guy, but from watching himself. Sure, there was that tiny bit of him that knew everything else had played a small hand in his arousal, but that part needed to be well… disposed of, neat, clean, never to be seen again.

Sam cupped his hands under the faucet and threw repeated splashes of cold water onto his face. He brushed the wetness up into his hair, took one last glance at himself in the mirror, then shut off the sink and left.

Sam walked to the car and got into the passenger seat without saying a word. His brother was already sitting in front of the wheel, starting the ignition.

"Thanks," Dean blurted quietly as he revved the engine.

"I thought we weren't gonna talk?" Sam said quickly.

"I'm not talking… I just-" Dean glanced at his brother. "Why's your hair all wet? What'd you take a show afterward?"

"No," Sam snapped.

"Whatever, it's fine… I mean, if I make you feel dirty."

"I washed my face." Sam smiled reluctantly. "And yes, you do… make me feel dirty." Dean smirked at the dig. The only way to deal with this really was humor, and so…

"Well you'd better get used to it, cause I think we just made you my bitch."

"Dean!"

"Sorry, dude," Dean laughed. "If it helps, I've had better."

"It does help," Sam mopped. "Shut up and drive."

Dean shifted the car into drive and then stopped, he again turned to his brother.

"Sam seriously, thanks," Dean said in earnest. Sam turned toward him, a bit surprised by the sincerity.

"Yeah." He nodded lightly. "No problem." They both made a point of not looking at one another as they shifted to silence.

Dean started the car moving and pulled it out onto the main road. They drove for a few minutes, Sam fidgeting as he realized he was sitting on something. He reached beneath himself, felt around on the seat, and finally pulled up a fistful of twenties. He turned and looked at his brother.

"There's just sixty, cause," Dean explained, "ya know… you only finished the job." Dean smirked. Sam smugly folded the money and to Dean's surprise, stuck it in his back pocket. "Hey!" Dean complained.

"What?" Sam challenged. "I _earned_ it!"

"All right, keep it!" Dean whined. "But that officially makes you my bitch!"

"Whatever, at least I'm FINALLY getting paid for it!"

Dean turned and raised an eyebrow, jaw dropped open in shock.

"Damn bro! I believe you just got the last word!"

"Good," Sam smiled arrogantly. "Then shut up." Dean shook his head in disbelief.

"Bitches," he mumbled as he stepped on the gas. "Soon as they know you're whipped, they lose all respect."

"Whatever. I'm taking a nap." Sam leaned back and shut his eyes. "Oh, and if you see another rest stop, I suggest you keep driving."

"What? Why?" Dean glanced at his brother, confused by the warning.

"I jack up my prices after midnight. You get stuck again, you won't be able to afford me." Dean began a reply to his brother's smart ass response, but in the end, had nothing. As he grumbled silently, Sam folded his arms across his chest, and smirked himself to sleep.

-The End-

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Always love to hear from you! Thanks for reading D

Kate

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